Chow Down!: More Cheese, Please!
by BritLuvr
Summary: Prequel to "Leave Room for Dessert". Eddie take Collie back to his plave for pizza, what sort of chaos ensues? Can Frank stand the groupie's growing affection for the biker? Rated T for hints of sex&violence!  Points to anyone who catches all of my puns!
1. Pizza Delivery And Planning A Date

_A/N: Howdy-howdy! X3 So this is the second installment in the Chow Down! series, though it should probably be the first. Don't be thrown off just because it starts with Riley, I've decided she's my (bad) luck charm and needs to be in more stories to take some of the misery off of the other characters. ;) Poor girl!  
>Frank, in my mind, eats no pizza...so this one's CollieEddie instead. I wonder which is more canon...? ;3 Tell me what you think!_

_**Chow Down!: More Cheese, Please!**_

Riley grumbled to herself as she crawled out of the car, snatching the pizza box with one clawed hand and slamming the door with the other. _Four_ prank deliveries in _one_ night, would you believe it? Maybe it was time to get out of the pizza delivery game…there was supposed to be a new ice cream parlor opening soon, and they would certainly need hard-working, honest, earnest employees. Riley just so happened to fit the bill beautifully, when she wasn't suspicious of being duped yet _again_. Her mind was very nearly made-up: She'd quit tonight, go work as cashier and attendant at the gas station for a couple of weeks, and apply for the ice cream parlor the second it was hiring. It was a good, solid plan on which to build an economic future, at least for a teenaged girl in Denton. Babysitting didn't break in squat in a small town like this, and she didn't have enough money to pay for the gas needed for an out-of-town job, so it looked like she truly and well stuck in Denton. At least until she scrapped together enough money for college, then she was home free!

She stopped in front of the shabby apartment door, smoothing down her logo-ed shirt (_"Pizze Bronzato: Perch__é__ andarepre l'oro quando sei l'unico in esecuzione?"_) and fiddling to make sure her pony-tail fell from out of her equally logo-ed cap perfectly. She might be only the delivery girl, but she was a _cute_ delivery girl, since her pride—and single status—would allow nothing less of her. She took a deep breath, plastered on a perky smile, and rang the doorbell. Something crashed down inside; there was some cursing, and some giggling; and the door opened to reveal a disheveled young man clad in blue jeans and leather, a little flushed and slightly out of breath, and a chipper young lady with dyed-red hair resting her chin on her arms over the arm of the sofa in the back. Riley's smile wavered, then returned full force.

"Pizze Bronzato delivery!" she called cheerfully, thrusting the box at the all-too-obviously-a biker. He looked confused, then a bulb went off dimly in his hand. One tattooed hand dove into his pocket, pulling out a wad of bills.

"There," he grunted, grabbing the box. "Now scram!"

The door slammed instantly in Riley's face, leaving her outside to count her change.

"You _schmuck_!" she hollered, clenching her fists and stomping one foot in rage. "You shorted me eight bucks!"

**Earlier That Evening**

Frank sneered, mood visibly darkening by the second. At the best of times, men like this annoyed him…but at the worst of times, times like these, men like this drove him to violence. The prat sat there, dirty boots propped up on the lab table, dumping mud onto the otherwise clean surface, looking around with the air of one soon to move in. He and his stupidity, his chauvinism, his uncouthness, made Frank ill. He would sooner slice the man before him into little pieces and eat them himself than allow the punk to come anywhere near his home again, but Columbia was getting to be too much of a distraction to allow for work on Rocky, and the brute was somehow able to keep her occupied and happy. Until the project was closer to completion—or at least until Frank needed Columbia's special _attentions _again—this buffoon Eddie was the perfect and, indeed, only answer.

"Vhere are you taking zah girl?" Magenta asked, more to drown-out the annoying tick-tock of the grandfather clock than out of actual interest.

"Town," the man grunted vaguely, and with a wicked grin. Frank's stomach churned.

The silence stretched on for a few more seconds before it finally frayed Frank's final nerve.

"COLUMBIA!" he shouted indignantly, making Eddie jump and fall out of his seat and Magenta quirk her brow curiously at him. "GET DOWN HERE, _NOW!_"

"I'mcomingI'mcomingI'mcomingI'mcoming!" replied the nervous, high-pitched voice everyone in the room had come to know so well in a single, breathless stream. The elevator landed and Columbia dashed out, wearing a fluttery pink shirt and yellow mini-skirt. Around her middle was a white plastic belt, and below her freshly-cropped hair, splitting open in a grin that ran ear-to-ear, were a pair of bubble pink-painted lips.

"Eddie!" she squealed, launching herself into his arms and wrapping her's around his neck. He winked, rather stupidly Frank thought, at Magenta before settling his arm around the girl's waist and tugging her after him.

"Where we going on our date, Eddie?"

"You'll see."

The footsteps faded; the door slammed; a motorcycle kicked up in the front yard; they were gone.

"Thank God they're gone," Frank muttered, gently massaging his temples in a vain attempt to rub away the rage.

"Amen to zat."


	2. For The First Time, Love Sneaks In

_A/N: SWEETNESS ALERT! If you've got a problem with Collie and Eddie having a sweet moment to themselves, then be sure you censor yourself while reading. From "Later That Evening", jump right down to the last two sentences. If, however, you appreciate warm-fuzzies from these two rock-lovers, by all means, read the whole chapter!  
>Also, this chapter has two really good puns, both related to songs. Points to whoever gets them first!<em>

_**Chow Down!: More Cheese, Please!**_

Columbia bounced nervously from one foot to another as she waited for Eddie to unlock his door. She was more than a little apprehensive—she had never been to Eddie's house…apartment…whatever! The fact stood that she had never been, and didn't know what to expect. She wasn't exactly dressed to just "hang out", having expected an actual date, but Eddie didn't seem to mind. Why would he? He ogled her in whatever she wore, and made her feel like a princess even when her makeup was running with regretful tears. He made her feel special, something treasured, which was more than Frankie had ever done. Sure, Frankie was great in bed, and a pro at flirting, and the king of dirty talk, and the best kisser ever, but he and his alien sensibilities lacked the one thing Eddie had over him—making a girl feel right all the time. With Eddie there was no fighting, no heartache, just making out and going on dates, and copping the occasional feel. It was heaven!

The key had gone in and turned, but the door wouldn't budge. Eddie growled a bit, pure testosterone, and Columbia could trouble brewing on the horizon.

"Maybe it's a sign," she suggested, threading her arms around one of his. "Maybe we should just go to the parlor ourselves. Pizze Bronzato ain't that far away from here." In a small town like Denton, nothing ever was. But Eddie shook his head, stubborn as bull…and strong as one too! He yanked his arm out of hers, backed up a couple of steps, and threw himself full-force into the door, using his shoulder like a battering ram to force open the entrance. It swung open reluctantly, and Columbia—acting on habit—applauded his success. "You're a genius!" she squealed, throwing herself at him again.

He laughed and let her inside, shutting and locking the door behind him. The inside of the apartment was typically male: Messy, smelly, but livable, and with touches of Eddie evident throughout. The furniture was cheap and third-rate, but the stereo was a beauty, with additional speakers flanking it to either side and a massive collection of music sat nearby. Posters around the living room showed a variety of things: Motorcycles, rock bands, action movies, scantily dressed women. Most girls would have been turned off by such a living space, but not Columbia. For her, it was just like the good old days, back when she was a real groupie doggedly following her rock-n-roll idols. She plopped down on the couch as Eddie picked up the phone and made the call.

"Yeah, I'll have two large pizzas, one cheese and on pepperoni." Columbia licked her lips hungrily. Life in the castle was swell and all, and the food wasn't half bad, but there were times when she just craved the comfort foods of Earth, like pizza and ice cream and Chinese take-out. The aliens were clueless, didn't have the faintest idea of how to make her feel better—but Eddie shared her appetite for fatty fried foods, and she knew that a night out with him always meant she was back to her favorite fare.

"How long we got?" she asked, kicking her shoes off.

"Thirty minutes."

"What're we gonna do 'til it gets here?"

His returning grin was feral, and he stalked toward the couch like a jackal in the hunt, perfectly willing to draw first blood.

"I can think of something."

And he launched himself on top of her, eliciting delightful squeals before lips were busied with more pleasurable business. It was frenzied and fun, just like always; Columbia loved fooling around with the biker that took such good care of her. Thirty minutes passed all too quickly, and the doorbell rang before the _real_ fun Eddie had planned for the evening could commence. Columbia broke away first, giving his shoulders a tiny shove as, instead of taking the hint, he lowered his mouth onto her neck.

"Ya' gotta go get the door," she panted. He groaned in protest but rose unsteadily to his feet, tripping over the too-close coffee table and crashing to the ground. Eddie cursed, rubbing his sore backside with one hand and his hurt elbow with the other; Columbia giggled, still dizzy from the heavy make-out session and struck by the hilarity of a man of Eddie's size getting hurt by his own coffee table. That had to be the ultimate betrayal in somebody's book.

He flung open the door, flushed and still panting, to find some perky little brunette standing in the doorway.

"Pizze Bronzato delivery!"

**Later That Evening**

With warm pizza in her belly and a soft rock song playing on the stereo, Columbia found herself curled up on Eddie's side, unwilling to leave the peaceful place. She was about an hour past the curfew Frank had set for her, but she didn't really care: This paradise was just too complete to leave for his sake. She fiddled with Eddie's fingers, holding one heavy hand in both of petite copies. If she was still just a groupie, still her own person and not Frank's, she could have fallen in love with Eddie: She could have stayed here and married him and helped him raise little rock-n-roll brats all their own. It was a faint, silly dream from a silly, sleepy girl, but it made her feel complete and safe and loved. Eddie lifted his arm and she snuggled a little closer, turning now to see his face. His eyes were closed as he took in the peace, a pretty girl in one arm and a demolished pizza on the hateful coffee table, a sweet song rolling out gentled chords and a life that was, for once, entirely right. He hadn't screwed up yet, hadn't done anything terrible, and he was almost surprised to find that he felt better this way than he had in years. Maybe his plans for tonight could change, maybe he could just Columbia to stay with him forever…it was ridiculous, of course—she loved the cross-dresser far too much, Lord only knows why—but it was a faint dream, a dying hope that he had to cling to. Columbia was his salvation, the only person in the world who cared enough about him to save him from himself, he just knew it.

"Hey, Eddie…." Her quiet whisper reluctantly broke the spell cast by the song and the pizza. She would ask to go home now, and he'd take her, then come back here and smash something because he had lost her again.

"Yeah?" He was going to tell her it was past her curfew soon, she just knew it, and he was going to kick her out and when she got home, she'd just cry on her bed and tell 'Genta it was just homesickness, like always.

"Can I stay here tonight?"

There was a pause, and the room held its breath. Columbia was sure that Eddie would make her leave now; Eddie was sure that Columbia would change her mind.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

He couldn't answer, he was so thrilled. She was staying! She wanted him! She wasn't that damn doctor's anymore, she was his! Beside him, Columbia grew still, but her stiffness went unnoticed. He was mulling it over, he didn't want her there, and he was going to tell her so. He looked down into her face, and understood her thoughts, but couldn't find the words to say.

So he kissed her instead.

One kiss led to another, and another, and another, and before long, Columbia got her first peek at Eddie's bedroom. Let's just say she was a little too preoccupied to enjoy the sight for a while.


	3. Impatient, Plotting, Pouty Frank

_A/N: Haha, yeah, baby chapter. *-* Sorry. Enjoy the sheer cattiness of a jealous Frank! Chapter title inspired by a song I saw a Frank video for once, "Sexy, Naughty, B-tchy Me" by Tata Young._

_**Chow Down!: More Cheese, Please!**_

Frank scowled, watching the clock in his bedroom as it slowly ticked by. Columbia was more than an hour past the curfew he had set for her…what was that girl doing? He had allotted her enough time to with the boy, get something to eat, have sex, and come back, so why wasn't she back yet?

He snarled at the clock as he threw a rhinestoned heel at it, knocking it from its place on his countertop. Something knotted in the pit of his stomach, some special sense told him the girl had done something different, something irreversible, something disgusting and horrible and utterly human.

It didn't matter what she had done, or why. Whatever the reason, she had not returned this night, and that left Frank with only one option. Useful or no, Eddie had to go.

It would a mercy killing, really.


	4. Something Good

_A/N: It's another short chapter, sorry! But we're getting near the ending, so it shouldn't be too much of a shock. Irony time: I was reading Annie Oying's "A Midnight Snack" a little while ago-and it's soooooo cute, go read it!-when I noticed Eddied being described as "a couple of slices short of a pizza". Ironic? Yes. Fitting? YES. Much love~!_

_**Chow Down!: More Cheese, Please!**_

They had done it, had done something good, had made something that Frank couldn't pervert and society couldn't frown upon. They had made a home, a haven; they found love and acceptance in each other's arms, and nothing was going to change that. For the first time ever, Columbia woke up exactly the way she had fallen asleep, safely ensconced in Eddie's protective arms. With Frank, she had him until he got bored and went to have fun with someone else; it was the same with the rockers before Eddie. But now, waking up in the arms of the man she loved, she was grateful for the unbreakable deal they had sealed last night, the promise neither one could go back on.

They had agreed to be boyfriend and girlfriend.

Was there any level of love stronger, more lasting, more holy than that of boyfriend and girlfriend?

She thought not!

With a dreamy sigh, she burrowed further under the covers and snuggled closer to the warm body of her boyfriend(oh! How the word excited her!), and was rewarded with a sleepy kiss on the top of her dyed-and-bobbed head, which was adorable even with her serious case of bed head.

"G'morning." The rumble resonated deeply in his chest, and she smiled and tucked in even closer.

"Morning," she replied.

"Sleep well?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Good."

There was a contented silence as they just held each other for a few more blissful minutes. But Columbia's loyalty and conscience came back to haunt her.

"Hey Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"I gotta get back home. Frankie'll worry."

He frowned, hurt that she didn't want to stay longer but understanding what was meant. They were together, they were happy…and maybe one day that would be enough to make Columbia pack her bags and leave the castle one last time.

"Go get dressed," he groaned, forcing himself into a sitting position.


	5. Not Quite According To Plan

_A/N: Nearly there, I promise! It's one last chapter and we're done! :) Oh, so you thought Frank was just going to waltz in and kill Eddie, or Collie was somehow going to save him? THINK AGAIN! XD_

_**Chow Down!: More Cheese, Please!**_

Frank waited patiently the next night outside of Eddie's apartment, hoping his beat-up old truck would blend right in with the vehicles of the other residences: So far, so good. He had left the castle with the vague alibi of needing to go far out of town to get a brain for his experiment. It was half-true, after all—he _was_ going to get a brain for his experiment, just not one from out of town.

The buffoon rode up and parked his motorcycle, than started up the stairs. Frank carefully observed the apartment he went into—or rather, rammed open—and waited a few more patient minutes for the biker to get settled and let down his guard. Then he exited his own vehicle and marched up to the apartment door. He was relying on the idiot to have something heavy with which he could be finished up, since Frank had not had the time to properly prepare for the engagement. He would knock-out the legs, since he required the head to be uninjured in order to obtain what he needed.

After knocking on the door, though, things didn't quite proceed the way Frank had imagined. He was let in, and the two immediately began a heated shouting match, all over the relative rights and ownership of the girl ("She's human! She has feelings! She had rights!" "She's a child; she doesn't deserve 'rights' until she can take care of herself! Besides which, she belongs _to me!" _"She belongs to herself, dammit!"), which eventually led them to shouting in each others' face, which eventually led to a hot, fierce kiss…. It wasn't long until they were both sprawled out on the bed, exhausted from their fight-turned-love-making. Frank reviewed the evening as a cheerful success, lighting up a smoke while lying on the horribly dirty bed. Eddie was in the room next door making phone call; he'd be back shortly. And when he returned, Frank decided, he'd wait until the other man was asleep, knock him out for good measure, drag his unresisting body to the car, and have his brain out and jarred by the time Columbia woke up the next morning.

"Yeah, a large pepperoni and a bottle of Coke. Alright, bye."


	6. The Last Delivery

_A/N: And so it ends. Thanks so much for the read, I'm really looking forward to all your reviews! Have fun, keep in touch, and tune in next time to Chow Down! Also, if I may beg your opinion...we appear to be following Riley's career now, and she's got at least two more jobs lined up. Who wants the gas station story, and who wants her next food-related job?_

_**Chow Down!: More Cheese, Please!**_

Riley walked up to the apartment, her step lighter than had been in weeks. This was her very last delivery for Pizze Bronzato, and soon the world would look much better. She'd go work at the gas station for a few weeks, apply the ice cream shop, and it was all smooth sailing after that. She even whistled as she walked up to the same apartment from last night, not even minding that she might out another eight dollars. It didn't matter, nothing mattered except quitting this horrible job and getting on with life.

She walked up the last step, merry as ever, but froze in her tracks when she cleared the landing. The door to the apartment was wide open, the lights off, no noise coming from within. Holding the pizza box in front of her chest like a shield, she crept a little closer, peering cautiously into the gloom. Things weren't just messy anymore; things were knocked over, and the carpet looked like something very heavy had been dragged across it. There were indents every here and there in the carpeting, like a two-legged chair or maybe a woman in heels had stood there for a prolonged period, but there were no other signs of things made out-of-place or even a struggle. She failed to hear the old car engine as it started up in the parking lot, but the glare of its headlights reflecting off the framed pictures had her turning around. She tracked the progress of the truck's taillights as it zoomed down the road that led out of town. Slowly, Riley put two and two together: Another prank. Normally, she would have been upset and cursing, angry at having wasted her time on getting here just to find such a scene. Tonight, however, she was almost glad it was another prank order from the dumb biker guy.

With a triumphant smile, she climbed into the delivery car and drove back to Pizze Bronzato. It was a good night for quitting while you were ahead.


End file.
